


Happiness Is Overrated

by ServantOfMischief



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Confession, F/M, Hurt, I wrote this before Ishida redrew the last chapter, Jealousy, Loneliness, Resolved emotions, Self-Harm, Slight anger issues, Spoilers, alchohol, feels so wrong, friends - Freeform, i don't even know what i'm doing, post dragon war, slightly happy ending?, so Uta is without his tattoos, this was supposed to be short, where did I go wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-10 01:10:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15280275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ServantOfMischief/pseuds/ServantOfMischief
Summary: It happens so fast she can't stop it. She cracks like fine china in front of him and spills everything, along with blood, tears and the remains of her eyes.





	Happiness Is Overrated

Itori can’t say she’s unhappy with the outcome of what this new organization, TSC, calls the Dragon War, especially not with her part of it. It had been very amusing. Six years and counting and the unity between ghouls and humans born from the incident is still going strong. She expected it to fall apart earlier on, for the humans to remember the ghouls diet, for the ghouls to remember how their loved ones were twisted and used against them, but she sees that she is wrong.

 

Everyone is pushing their feelings of the past aside for what they believe is the greater good. That in itself is a tragedy, she believes. A wry smile passes her lips as she opens the door to HySy. She never believed a real alliance would ever happen, but she has been proven wrong. Their artificial food is absolute shit though, so she prefers to hunt quietly still. A random rapist or killer here or there isn’t anyone who will be missed, after all. If they ever find the remains of her victims, that is.

 

Uta’s hunched over his work-desk, as usual, frantically scribbling something down onto a piece of paper and so lost in his work he doesn’t even notice the redhead waltzing into the shop, despite the soft jingle of the bell. She waits for a reaction when she opens the bottle of blood wine she brought with her, breathing in the heavy, seductive fragrance filling the room. She wonders what he’s working on this time. She fills two glasses, drinking half of hers before she decides to announce that she is in fact in the same room as him. He stops moving when she places the glass by the paper he’s hunched over and blinks a couple of times before sitting up straight and looking at her, surprised.

 

“Itori-san?”

 

“Good evening to you too.” She glances down at the desk, at his work and sees Renji’s name at the top of it, written with Uta’s messy handwriting. This man can create the most detailed and beautiful or grotesque pieces, the most amazing paintings and sketches, but his handwriting is hardly readable.

 

“Another ambush?” She question and he nods. She feels her mood drop a little, but masks it with a smile.

 

“Let me come along next time.”

 

“Sure.” She has no faith in his words, because he’s said he’ll bring her along before, and yet it has never happened. His arms are bare, his neck is bare, his hands and nails are just as colour- and ink-less. His hair is short, and the undercut is gone. He’s changed so much and she’s not quite sure she likes it, but despite the physical appearance changing so much, he is still Uta. The difference now is that he isn’t like her anymore. He’s focusing solely on the thrill of being able to fight Renji instead of watching tragedies unfold around them. It’s what keeps him from going mad, and what keeps her rooted is watching him find joy in this because there are no more tragedies for her to invest in, not any that will cause major changes in society anymore, at the least.

 

Nico kept her company for a while, but she’s already left further south, claiming to be searching for _the one._ Itori wished her good luck, but now that she is gone she realizes just how lonely she is. With Nico there, Uta’s obsession with Renji had been easier to accept because at least Itori had company, company who noticed she was there. Now that the other ghoul is gone, Itori mostly sit alone in her bar. She and Uta is the last of the Pierrot in Tokyo, but with Uta’s fixation on Renji she might as well be the only one left.

 

“You mind me staying over, U-chan?” She asks. She doesn’t feel like returning to her cold apartment and is desperate enough to want to stay by her friend’s side even if he might not even recognize her being there.

 

“Sure.” He repeats, going back to his paper, scribbling and fazing out from reality again. She moves back to the glass-case where she’s deposited her own glass and bottle. She can’t quite bring herself to look at him anymore, so she just stares at the masks still lined up on the walls. They make her think of the older days, when things were simple, then everything had become horrible and the world showed her its true colours and she had donned her clown mask.

 

She puts down her glass, rests her elbows against the cool glass and hides her face in her hands. Quiet laughter escapes her. The world hasn’t changed for the better, not for her. There’s little fighting, no one she can rile up, no one she can watch falling deeper and deeper into pain and despair, no one who can distract her from her own loneliness. The blood wine no longer tastes good, so she leaves it on the counter and move up the stairs. As expected, Uta doesn’t notice her leaving and she crashes onto his bed. She’s tired of everything. She just wants to sleep and never wake up again.

 

Delirious laughter escapes her, high-pitched, the sound reverberating off the walls. She hates what she sees in this room, hates the sketches littered around, hates everything that is utterly Uta and she can’t bear to look at it. Next thing she knows her vision turns red, then black, as her fingers dig into her own eye-sockets. She can feel her manicured nails scratching against the back of her sockets, scrape against the bone and leaving marks, the blood running down her face is probably soaking the sheets. It’s not as painful as she thought it would be, but she heals quickly, _too_ quickly. So, she claws her eyes out again and again and again until fingers wrap around her wrists in a bone-crushing grip.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“You’re bleeding onto my bed.” She hears Uta say and she grins.

 

“Oh, I’m _so_ sorry.” She’s really not, the sarcasm is heavy in her voice, but he doesn’t sound angry either, so she doesn’t believe she is in any kind of trouble. He lets go of her as she feels the bed dip beside her and she folds her arms over her stomach and while he isn’t asking her what is going on, she knows he is curious. He’s always curious about everything and everyone when it suits him.

 

“I hate looking at you.” She declares, and she feels movement.

 

“What did _I_ do?”

 

“I don’t hate _you,_ I just hate looking _at_ you.” She clarifies.

 

“So, you came here for an excuse to gouge your eyes out?”

 

“I needed a distraction.”

 

“Self-harming is your way of distracting yourself?” She wrinkles her nose at the amused tone of voice he’s using. Her vision is slowly returning. Everything’s blurry, but it’s slowly getting clearer. She’s not really happy about it but knows that if she attempts at reaching for the soft organs again Uta will stop her.

 

“I really don’t feel like you have the right to sound so condescending about it.” He’s not even facing her. If he is going to judge her, he should at the very least look at her when doing so. It kind of angers her how he doesn’t even look her way.

 

“Isn’t that just running away from your problems instead of facing them?” What he’s telling her now is the exact same thing Renji told him when they fought during the Dragon War. She leaps forward before she even knows what she’s doing. Renji, Renji, Renji, it’s always fucking Renji. Uta did not expect to be shoved off the bed and pinned to the floor, nor does he anticipate the punch which makes his jaw throb. Her eyes are red and irritated, unfocused, and still healing and so filled with blazing fury it sends a shiver down his spine. 

 

“I absolutely abhor seeing you!” She snarls, raising her arm and hitting him again. It’s satisfying, the throb in her knuckles, the slight narrowing of his eyes, but at the same time it is not enough. Bringing pain upon others lessens her own and bringing it upon the current subject of her pain and loneliness nearly makes her feel good about herself again.

 

“Ren-chan, Ren-chan, Ren-chan, you only have eyes for Ren-chan! I hate it!” He pushes her off, but she kicks out, and hears bone crack. Uta makes no noise of discomfort but even with her still regenerating eyes she can see that his knee is bent in an angle it most certainly is not supposed to be. Her kagune manifests and he rolls out of the way as it stabs after him.

 

“Why don’t you look at _me?_ Why’d you never look at _Nico?_ Or Roma or Donato? You don’t even look at that Asa girl!” She yanks him down as he moves to stand, trapping him and she moves in for the kill. He doesn’t move to get away, but she misses anyway. The tip of her kagune dug deep into the floor-boards, grazing his cheek. It’s not as if the fight is completely drained from her or that she feels any less angry but doing any more than this is irrational and utterly meaningless.

 

“I’m your friend too.” Her voice cracks. “ _Look_ at me!” She wails. She’s not sure how she went from beating him and snarling like a wild beast to wailing like a lost child, but here she is. All she wants is for him to see her too, to remember that she’s been his friend for even longer than Renji and that even if she can’t give Uta the thrill he feels when fighting the other male, she is important too. She wants him to acknowledge that she exists! She exists, she exists, she exists, _somebody look at her!_

She hates looking at him, why should she see him when he won’t see her? She digs her fingers into her sockets again. She trashes over him, bending backwards as blood and vitreous gel ooze out between her fingers and gush down her face alongside the tears. This time it does hurt, so excruciating she almost fall off, but something supports her from behind.

 

Uta watches, there’s not much else he can do. Itori… He’s never seen her loose her composure, not like this. He guesses, based on this, that perhaps he has been a bit neglectful of his other friends lately, and he should probably apologize, but right now he is distracted by a burning need to lick the blood and remains of her eyes off of her cheeks. He’s never thought about eating Itori, but now… The way she’s writhing in pain is exquisite to watch too. Her screams, on the other hand and he cannot believe he of all people is thinking this, are terrible to listen to. He pushes himself up into a sitting position and pulls her hands away from her face for a second time, trapping them. Her wrists are so thin and delicate, he’s never noticed that before, so small he can hold them in one hand. He’s known her for years, for the most part of his life, but there are still things he doesn’t know about her. Stopping her seems to drain her of all fight and she slumps backwards over his raised knees, head lolling back.

 

The position hardly looks comfortable. It’s almost unnatural how far she bends her back. There’s no shaking, but she twitches every now and then as her eyes grow back out, the optical nerves knitting together and enabling her to see again. She’s lucky Uta left the lights off when he entered the room, because the new organs are very sensitive.

 

“Are you done with your little tantrum?” Itori is much stronger than she looks, faster too. So many things he has forgotten over the years, but he relearns quickly as she surges forward, fist once again connecting with his jaw. This time the punch dislocates his jaw, and he brings a hand up to the offended area, before resetting it with a grunt.

 

“Now,” she inhales. “I’m done.” She exhales. Hearing the crack and watching him tenderly touch his jaw is oddly satisfying. She guesses that now his invitation to stay over is retracted. Uta isn’t one to grow angry so easily, but to be attacked for no reason with no explanation will anger anyone, even the placid mask maker.

 

“Ah, that felt good.” She admits as she stands up and moves towards the door.

 

“I needed to lose some steam, sorry I took it out on you, U-chan.” She waves over her shoulder, only to stop short when the door is slammed shut, a shimmering and deadly kagune pressing on the wooden object. She blinks, because Uta hardly ever uses his kagune even in battle, so for him to use it for such a mundane thing as closing a door is surprising, to say the least. She’s almost speechless. Almost. She turns around, tilting her head with a smile.

 

“Oh my, did I make you angry?”

 

“Absolutely furious.” He replies blankly as he gets up as well. His knee has reset itself already, as if it had never been broken in the first place, and he turns towards her. His eyes are devoid of any emotion as he ambles up to her and uses his thumbs to remove the gel-like substance from her cheeks. She feels a shiver run up her spine at the way his pupils nearly blow out, glowing. Eyes are his favourite snack and he obviously like the taste of hers.

 

“Are you going to eat me?”

 

“Maybe.” He leans forward, teeth grazing the skin over the jugular vein. He’s slightly disappointed that there’s no reaction from her, no hitch in her breath, her muscles aren’t tensing all over her and her breathing is as steady as ever, even when he bites down in an attempt at making her believe he will actually hurt her, when his teeth sink so deep her skin breaks.

 

“Hmmm, no you won’t.” He releases her and looks up and sees a bleak smile on her face, no mirth in her usual mischievous eyes. “Because that means I’m actually important to you.” He frowns and straightens up. This is so unlike her and he doesn’t like it. It is confusing, really, because watching others with this kind of expression, an expression that shows how lost they are, how they aren’t sure of what is real or not anymore, is what he found delight in for many years, but seeing it on her… He doesn’t know what to make of it.

 

“I will admit I have perhaps neglected you, but you are my friend too, Itori-san. I do acknowledge that fact.”

 

“Which you only remembered because I reminded you.”

 

“I’ve been busy.” Is his argument.

 

“With everyone and everything except the ones who actually stayed with you.” She sighs and lowers her head, seemingly defeated.

 

“If it bothered you so, why did you stay?” Her hands twitch, she feels the urge to punch him again, but that will accomplish absolutely nothing, and she’s pretty sure he’s just waiting for her to attack him again too. It actually feels like he’s goading her on.

 

“Because I’m apparently just like the rest of the sheep out there.” She mutters. She isn’t expecting him to understand her feelings because she can barely make any sense of them herself, but she kind of thought he understood that she obviously cares a lot for him. A blind man can see that.

 

“I don’t follow.”

 

“You rarely do.” When it comes to feelings, Uta is about as clever as a rock. Actually, a rock might understand better. She knows this, shouldn’t be bothered by it but she is. She purses her lips as she reaches out to grace her fingers across the edges of his short hair. It’s even shorter now than when they were kids, but it feels so wrong that it is dark and not bleached blonde. Then again, as unique as Uta is, bleaching it blonde when he’s past thirty may be a bit much, even for him. He’s watching her, eyes unblinking and still like a statue. She imagines that right now she must be acting like all the unfortunate people they manipulated back in the day.

 

“Maybe I’m just jealous of Ren-chan, for hogging all your attention.” She yanks on his hair playfully in an attempt at dispelling the heavy air which has fallen upon them, but she fails because Uta doesn’t answer, he just continues to stare at her. She admits that she finds it a bit disquieting, because even though she’s used to him growing quiet she is not used to have him scrutinize her in such a manner.

 

“Do you like me, Itori-san?”

 

“Hah?” The way she raises her brow and appears to be absolutely flabbergasted by his question cause him to blink and straighten up. Perhaps he is mistaken.

 

“Why’d you cut your hair?” He changes his question.

 

“Why’d you cut yours?” She shoots back. Neither answer the other and Itori decides that it is time for her to leave. But first…

 

“I’ve always liked you, U-chan.” She admits. “You’re my friend and I cared about you. At some point it evolved into more.” She reveals, and the mask maker wonders how he can have missed this, considering he’s managed to pick up on other people’s emotions, their feelings, and manipulated them to find ways to amuse himself. Yet even though Itori’s been with him for so long, he never saw it, never saw her feelings.

 

“Can I go now?” He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t move to stop her when she turns around and opens the door, the kagune long since disappeared, doesn’t move even when she descends the stairs or when she leaves the building and while she is shocked that she revealed the feelings she had been hiding away for over a decade, she feels lighter, like a burden has been lifted off her shoulders. And she isn’t worried about ruining their friendship, because him knowing she feels anything romantic towards him doesn’t change their relationship. There’s no way it can.

 

She neither hears nor sees him for weeks after that, but Renji comes by the bar, taking a seat in front of her by the counter. She is pleasantly surprised to see the silver-haired ghoul.

 

“Ara, Ren-chan! It’s been a while!” She beams at him. It has been a while since she had last seen him. He seldom comes around now that he is a grand-uncle. “What would you like?”

 

“Coffee.” She pouts.

 

“Aw, you’re no fun.” He fixes her with a look and she give in, turning around to the little coffee machine she has stored really just for her own sake. She sets the steaming cup in front of him and he take a sip, pausing.

 

“You’ve gotten better.”

 

“Better?”

 

“Your coffee. It’s better.” He says. She crosses her arms and raises a brow.

 

“You mean to tell me my coffee was bad before?”

 

“No, it’s just better.” He says simply, and she knows that this is as close to a compliment she’ll ever get from him.

 

“The manager used to say that the calmer your heart is, the more at peace you are, the better your coffee would taste.” She doesn’t know much about coffee making, and her coffee maker is a simple and cheap model but thinking her heart might be calm after everything that has happened, yes, she can believe it, but by no means will she tell Renji that it had ever been in unbalance.

 

“Hmm? You’re awfully chatty today, Ren-chan. What’s up?” He shakes his head as she places her elbows on the counter, grinning as she rests her chin on linked fingers.

 

“I want to ask you about Uta.” She stands up straight so quickly his head snaps up in surprise, the confusion growing bigger as her smile grows thin and cold. Usually mentioning the mask maker makes her gleeful and mischievous but now it has the opposite effect and Renji does not know why. What happened when his back was turned?

 

“If you want info on U-chan, I suggest you go see him yourself. I haven’t seen him in weeks, so I have nothing to tell you.” She turns away and moves to serve a customer who calls for her attention and she does not return to Renji for the rest of the evening. The man is stubborn though, and patient, and waits for her to close shop. Once the last customer is out and she has locked up, she sighs before turning towards the lone ghoul by the counter.

 

“Seriously, Ren-chan. If you want to know about U-chan, visit him yourself. I’ve got nothing for you.”

 

“We fought a week ago.” She tilts her head, raising a brow.

 

“Then what did you come here for?”

 

“He was distracted, didn’t land a single hit on me.” This cause her to pause, and then she feels slightly angry. Uta ignores everyone and everything for the sake of fighting with Renji, but now he screws that up?

 

“He what?”

 

“So, I wondered if you knew, but considering your response…”

 

“No, I don’t know.” There’s a steely tone to her voice which makes the hairs on the back of his neck raise. “But I will find out. I’ll give you a call.” She ushers him out before ascending the stairs and finding her coat and grabbing a bottle with her as she leaves the bar. She’s not sure she can confront the mask maker without some peace offering, considering what happened the last time. When she arrives, the shop is dark, and she unlocks the door with the spare key Uta gifted her once many years ago. The masks, barely visible in the dark, are eerie, mocking. She ignores them to the best of her ability as she moves around the room divider, finds the stairs hidden behind a corner and ascends them. She enters the apartment cautiously.

 

“Trespasser.” She sees him on the couch further inside, boots on the table, arms resting along the back on said furniture, head lolled back. She can’t see his face, but she can see smoke above him. Uta rarely smokes, only when he’s got an art block nowadays, but back when they were teens he smoked whenever he was in a terrible mood. She’s not sure which one it is today.

 

“I’ve brought a peace-offering.” She holds up the bottle of blood wine and he pulls himself up enough to look at her, before falling back over. He doesn’t tell her to get the hell out, so she walks over and sits down beside him. She opens the bottle and drinks right from it, watching him from the corner of her eyes.

 

“Ren-chan came by.”

 

“I see.” He still doesn’t sit up properly and it infuriates her how he sounds so disgustingly placid. She takes another swig before settling the bottle down on the table.

 

“Oh yes. Told me all about how he owned your ass.” He twitches.

 

“He didn’t beat me.”

 

“Really?” She gets up from the couch and walks around the table to give herself a little bit of extra time to react to his next move, because now she is going to rile up the beast.

 

“Because he told me how you didn’t land a single punch on him. Sounds like the good old days, when he beat your blonde ass each and every day.”

 

“He never beat me.” There’s a slight strain to his voice, and she continues. She is on the right track.

 

“Oh please. I patched you up several times during those days. I thought you were better at this now, considering how great of a fight you two had six years ago. He said you were so distracted with something you couldn’t even properly stand on two feet. What’s messing around with your head so bad that you couldn’t focus on your oh so _freaking_ important battle with-“

 

“ _You!”_ He snarls and leaps up, cigarette falling from his mouth as he barrels over the living-room table. She sidesteps, but he plants his heels into the floor and spins, hand reaching out. She feels his blunt nails scraping the skin off her collarbones as she skips backwards. His fingers hook on the strap of her dress though and he yanks. He isn’t able to bring her back to her previous position, but he does rip the fabric enough that it rips down the middle so bad that she has to scrabble to cover herself and stop her dress from falling off.

 

“Fucking hell, Uta!” She exclaims. She may have provoked him, but to rip her clothing apart is more than unnecessary though he is far from done, apparently. He lunges forward, and she finds herself slammed into the ground before she can react and for a moment the breath is knocked out of her. She cracks open one eye and see how utterly furious he is. She can’t remember seeing him like this since they were teenagers, his eyes are squinting, the red pupils barely visible as he breathes heavily, visibly fighting against the urge to actually harm her. She can smell cigarette smoke on his breath and he can probably smell blood on hers as she finally manages to fill her lungs with enough air to wheeze out;

 

“What did _I_ do?” The hand gripping her shoulder tightens its hold and it feels like the bones are breaking beneath the force.

 

“You just _had_ to come in here and mess with me!” Oh the irony of that statement. She elbows him in the side and rolls them over before staggering to her feet and away. She should have kept him down, she knows she should, because he is up on his feet in the matter of seconds, advancing on her again.

 

“I would ask; _how does it fucking feel_ , but I can’t because I _didn’t_ mess with you!” She points, finger jabbing the air viciously and he stops, watching her intently, waiting for her next move.

 

“I didn’t lie, Uta!” She snarls. “So, sit the fuck down and listen to me!” He doesn’t do what she demands of him, but she feels the fabric of her ruined clothing slipping again and she hurries to pull it up and hold it in place. She huffs as she grabs the bottle, but she doesn’t drink. She’s torn between throwing the bottle at him, wasting precious blood, or shouting. She settles for taking a deep breath to calm herself. She riled him up, got her answer, now it is time to calm them both down and figure this out.

 

“I did not lie.” She repeats, lowering her arm. The bottle seems a heavy weight in her hand, suddenly. 

 

“But I don’t see why that should bother you in the first place. Even if it was a lie, it’s not something that would stick-“ she stops, because she notices something, a barely there twitch of his eyes, how he for even just half a second, breaks eye-contact with her and Uta doesn’t do that. He doesn’t grow uncomfortable, or at least he doesn’t show any such signs to anyone, he never back away because he feels uneasy, but he does now, and she is momentarily stunned.

 

“You _are_ bothered? Why?” She can’t understand it. It makes no sense, because why should Uta care that she is romantically interested in him? He loves _Renji_ , that is why they’re battling all the time, because that is the only way for Uta to be with the other male. Uta only goes out of his way for people he cares about, Renji has proven to be that one person he will do anything for, so why did Itori’s confession shake him so bad?

 

“I mean, why, you love Ren-chan, so why would my useless confession mean anything?”

 

“It made me _think!”_ He hisses, and she slowly puts the bottle down before advancing towards him carefully. “It angers me that I didn’t notice, because I pride myself on being a very perceptive individual.” He explains, falling heavily against the wall and sliding down.

 

“Come now.” She crouches down beside him when she reaches him. “I’m pretty sure I hid it well all these years. No one’s commented on it, not even Nico, and she had a ridiculously sharp nose for these kinds of things.” He snorts in agreement, resting his head against the wall as he stares at the roof.

 

“Besides, don’t think too much about it.” She says, smiling wanly. “I just happened to blurt it out. It doesn’t mean anything. I know you love Ren-chan, so I thought it didn’t really matter how I felt when I said it. I didn’t know it would upset you so. I’m sorry.”

 

“Why are _you_ sorry?”

 

“I ruined your last fight with my babbling.” He laughs at that.

 

“You didn’t ruin it. I screwed up myself.” He mutters.

 

“Because I made you use what few braincells you have.” She sighs.

 

“Ouch.” He nudges her with his shoulder and suddenly everything is like it used to be, before she cracked like fine china a couple of weeks before.

 

“It really is okay though.” She says after a long moment of silence. “Don’t worry about me.”

 

“But I do worry.” He admits.

 

“Seriously, don’t. Unrequited love won’t kill me.” He watches her from the corner of his eyes before speaking again.

 

“I don’t love Renji-kun.” His blunt statement causes her to backtrack and snap her head towards him.

 

“What?”

 

“I don’t love Renji-kun.” He repeats, staring straight ahead. “I love fighting with him, it’s such a thrill every time, but I don’t love him.”

 

“Oh.” So she had been wrong about that. It made her a little bit happy, but not too much because just because Uta doesn’t love Renji in the way she had believed at first, it doesn’t mean a happy ending for her either. Perhaps the three of them are supposed to be alone in that regard. Well, she thinks Renji chose it because he felt the need and responsibility to look out after his niece and nephew and she hasn’t been able to invest in anyone who isn’t Uta. How utterly pathetic of her. Well, she’s been happy enough just watching him the last decade, she’ll be fine with that for another two or three decades more, she’s sure.

 

“Hm, then I have to apologize for kicking in your knee, at the very least.”

 

“Nah.”

 

“Bleeding all over your bed, then?”

 

“Your blood actually freshened up the smell in there.” She bursts out laughing then, nearly falling over as she cackles.

 

“Oh my lord, you really say the strangest things, U-chan!” He feels the corners of his lips curl upwards. He does say strange things, doesn’t he? Her kagune unfurls and slithers over to his table, grabs the bottle and pulls it back to Itori’s hand.

 

“Care for a drink?” He takes the bottle, and as the night progresses on, it becomes more than just one. They relocate to the couch when the morning light starts to creep through the windows, eyes barely open. They’re drunk beyond measure, and Itori can’t keep herself upright. She falls against him and slides down, halfway sprawled over his lap.

 

“Fall out of love with me, Itori-san.” Uta groans unexpectedly.

 

“Don’t wanna.” Itori retorts bluntly, hiccupping.

 

“I won’t… bring you any happiness. I don’t do that kind of thing?”

 

“If I wanted happiness I would never have joined the Pierrot in the first place.” She says.

 

“Really?”

 

“Really. Happiness is over-” She attempts at getting up but only manages to slip and fall off the couch, much to her companions’ amusement. He bows over, wild snickers leaving him, even when he has to throw himself sideways to avoid an empty bottle tossed his way. He nearly falls off himself when she reaches up and grabs a hold of him to pull herself up. Her movements are clumsy, but she does manage to get up onto the couch again, flopping over.

 

“How about we just… sleep this off and discuss it in the morning, or well, whenever we wake up?” She suggests, and he nods. They’re out like lights in the matter of seconds, and when they wake again to the sound of Itori’s phone ringing, their heads are pounding terribly.

 

“Hmpgh.” She reaches for her coat and pulls the device out of a pocket and silences it. She doesn’t bother checking the caller-id as she tosses the now silent phone onto the table and proceeds to pull herself up. Her head is throbbing, she kind of feels sick but she’s got nothing to throw up in her belly. With great regret she gets up on her feet and shuffles towards the kitchen. She makes some coffee, filling two mugs before shuffling back to the couch. Uta has refused to awaken yet, but she figures the smell of the steaming hot cup will lure him out of dreamland soon enough. The caffeine slowly works its miracle and the pounding dies down and she is able to actually relax.

 

“Fuuuck.” She hears Uta mutter before the lump of cloth moves around. A pale hand reaches out and snags the cup, retreating again.

 

“Where the hell did you find a blanket?” Itori tugs on it and an inhuman hiss is heard beneath when Uta is subjected to sunlight. She lets go and he burrows beneath it again. She laughs quietly when he emerges, his hair sticking in all directions. It’s not nearly as bad as when he had longer hair, but it is still an adorable look on him.

 

“Morning.” She says and he grunts. “Still not a morning person, huh?”

 

“Don’t mock me.” He says quietly and she hums.

 

“I’m not making fun of you. How are you feeling?”

 

“Like I was run over by a truck.” That sounds familiar, she thinks. She sips her coffee again, realizing she may need another cup to be able to face the new day. She’s still unsteady as she gets up, and she brings the coffee pot back with her. She doesn’t feel the need to get up from the couch again for the next week at the very least. They don’t speak again until the pot is empty and Uta is the first to speak up.

 

“I was serious about what I said last night.”

 

“About what? We said a lot of things last night.” She says as she puts the up down. “Is it about the drunk cross-dressing? Because I don’t think that’s funny or stupid at all, you _do_ look good in my dresses, as much as I hate to admit it.”

 

“Not that.” He rolls his eyes and throws the blanket at her. “And cover yourself.” She blinks and realizes her torn dress has pooled around her waist now.

 

“Oh, thanks.” She wraps it around her shoulders and tilts her head, waiting for him to tell her what he’s talking about.

 

“When I told you to fall out of love with me. Do it.”

 

“U-chan, if you think it’s that easy, I would have done so a long time ago.” She deadpans. She’s in no need to go through such a conversation, as she knows what will happen anyways.

 

“Don’t think about it. I don’t need you to love me back.” She tells him as she pulls her feet up onto the couch. “I’m happy as long as you are my friend.” Or so she had felt until the raven-haired ghoul told her he _didn’t_ love Renji. She would have been satisfied with this if he loved Renji, but he doesn’t, and somehow that made her hope, despite her knowing the chances are more or less zero anyway. She sighs, she knows better than getting her hopes up.

 

“I could try.”

 

“Try what?” She blinks.

 

“Loving you.” She can’t help the laughter escaping her. It’s not like she’s making fun of him for what he said, but it’s so much like him. Try to love her. A nice sentiment, shows that he cares enough to try, but one cannot just force that onto yourself. Still, she wraps an arm around his shoulders and bring him beneath the blanket, cushioning his head on her bare shoulders, ignoring how exposed that left her.

 

“Nice of you to offer, U-chan, but don’t force yourself.”

 

“I can do it.”

 

“You’re talking like a kid. We’re adults now.”

 

“Let me try.” He looks up and steals a chaste kiss. She’s caught off-guard again. How many times during the last half-a-day has he done that now? It’s nice though, she can’t argue that, but she also worries that if she gets a taste of what she wants, she won’t be able to give it up. Actually, just from this she knows she’ll be unable to give it up. She yanks on his necklace, smirking.

 

“Ara, now you have to, U-chan. You can’t give me a taste of the forbidden fruit and expect me to back off.”

 

“Who are you, Eve?” He laughs but sits up straight and pulls her into his lap.

 

“If I was, I’d have to eat you up, completely, apple-chan. I don’t want that, who’s going to keep me entertained then?” She states-a-matter-of-factly and he shakes his head, still shaking with mirth.

 

“So, not Eve.” He says.

 

“No, not Eve. Don’t call me Eve, ever, it doesn’t suit me at all. Where did that even come from?” She harrumphs, crossing her arms.

 

“Fine then, not Eve.” He agrees, though it does suit her, he thinks. Eve ate the forbidden apple and gained knowledge, and Itori is very much the same. She always delved deep into the underground and found every little scrap of information they ever needed as the Pierrot. She still knows more than most, that little bar of hers being the perfect little spot for leisurely information gathering. He wonders if she knows any other life by now.

 

“Close your bar for a few days, stay with me.” He is formulating a plan in his head, she can see it. She wonders what it is though.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because please?” She wants him to give her an actual reason, but he’s merely grinning at her, the light curl of his lips, and she exhales. He won’t tell her anything until he’s good and ready for it.

 

“Fine. But I need to get a change of clothes.” She tells him. He does go to get it for her, considering the state of her ruined clothing, and when he comes back, they spend the weekend together, playing his game. It is a rather enjoyable weekend, she must admit.

 

She wakes on Monday morning by sneezing. She wrinkles her nose and opens her eyes, glaring at the feathers tickling her face. She waves them away with a growl before turning around, only to survey the chaos that is Uta’s mostly demolished bedroom and the raven-haired ghoul barely clinging onto the edge of the bed in his sleep.

 

“Oh dear.” She mutters. The bedsheets are torn and bloody, the remains of the pillows are the feathers fluttering about, and the bed is missing three legs, which explains why she feels like she is sleeping up against a wall. The curtains by the window is in tatters, even the wallpaper is roughed up. She stretches, feels how crunchy her skin feels and looks down at herself. There is dried blood all over her, and she sees bitemarks all over her thighs, some still bleeding even. She blinks before falling back onto her front, huffing. Her phone makes itself known again and she reaches out for it, seeing Renji’s name popping up on the screen.

 

Right, she told him she’d give him a call.

 

“Hello, Ren-chan.” She murmures quietly. She’s not sure whether or not Uta is still asleep or not, but considering she feels no movement from beside her she decides to _try_ and be quiet at the very least.

 

_“You said you’d call me.”_

 

“Yeah, sorry about that. It took a while to… get the information out of him.” She admits, rolling her shoulders. She sighs when they make a cracking noise and the pressure disappears. Memories from the entire weekend is starting to come back to her. By everything good and holy in this world, they have been drinking far too much.

 

_“Why are you talking like that, Itori?”_

 

“Hm? Like what?”

 

_“Like you’re hiding something.”_

 

“I am not hiding anything.” She assures him. “But I don’t think your next fight will be _like-_ “ She yelps when fingers pinch her side.

 

_“Itori?”_

 

“Is that Renj-kun?” Uta asks as he rolls over, flattening his hand over her back. He doesn’t need to ask, really, his impeccable hearing can clearly make out who’s voice it is on the other side. She knows this and glares at him but nods nonetheless.

 

“Say hi from me.”

 

“U-chan says _hi!_ ” Her voice rise into a high pitch as Uta rolls over her and nips at her ear while other parts of him brush against her.  

 

 _‘Damn you.’_ She thinks as she shivers. He’s not playing fair.

 

“ _What_ are you doing?” She demands, turning her head.

 

“Wishing you a good morning.” Uta smiles way too innocently at her over her shoulder and she roll her eyes.

 

 _“What are you two doing?”_ Renji asks dubiously and Itori huffs.

“Solving that problem you guys had. I don’t think your next fight will be like the last one.” She presses out through gritted teeth. She refuses to fall for Uta’s antics just yet, not while on the phone with Renji. Back in the past she would have, perhaps she will later if the opportunity presents itself, but not right now.

 

“Is it resolved though?” Uta hums and she reaches behind her to grab his arm and yank him forward, then tangling her hand in his hair to press his face against the back of her neck to muffle his words.

 

“We’re getting there.” She tells him sternly before turning her attention back to the phone conversation.

 

“I’ll call you again later, okay, Ren-chan? It’s way too early in the morning for this call.”

 

“ _It’s three in the afternoon.”_ Renji deadpans, but the ginger doesn’t miss a beat.

 

“As I said, _way_ too early. Buh-bye!” She ends the call and drops the phone onto the bed before attempting to turn around. Keyword, attempt.

 

“U-chan, let go of me.”

 

“Nope.” He pops the p, wrapping his arms around her middle. “Don’t you think we still have a lot of problems to resolve?”

 

“You’re just using it as an excuse for sex.” She grumbles as he nudges her hair away from her neck.

 

“Yes or no?” The corners of her lips curl upwards and she rolls her hips backwards, revelling in the exhale she hears.

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

 

It’s not like he fell for her during the weekend, it’s not like he told her he loved her the same way she loves him, but she’s quite satisfied with this arrangement nonetheless. They’ve had rather meaningful conversations the last few days, scary as that thought is, and she has thoroughly enjoyed it. It is like they’re getting to know each other all over again and it is nice. He’s actually trying, and she’s more than content with that now.

 

He hasn’t given her any false promises and this situation is more freeing than anything else. She can love him as much as she wants, enjoy these situations and not hold anything back while fully informed of what is going on. No more hiding, no more holding back.

 

Just the way she likes it.  

**Author's Note:**

> Itori deserves more love, gods be damned! Why is there so few fanfics about her? I'm not even sure if this is any good or worthy of her


End file.
